Going Places

by Bart Edelman

I thought I was going places;
Then the hammer came down—
Crushing, to say the least.
Oh, I was ready for failure—
Taught it from an early age—
But not, at all, like this.
What’s a body to do, though?
Hurl itself off a bridge?
That’s not my style, I’m afraid.
Far more impact than I need.
Where’s hope in her disguise?
A modicum of positive thought,
If nothing else survives.
Yes, I guess I’m fortunate,
Able to find adequate shelter,
Until a destination is available—
Whether I reach it or not.
Just point me in any direction;
Let the wind spin me around.

BIO

Bart Edelman’s poetry collections include Crossing the Hackensack (Prometheus Press), Under Damaris’ Dress (Lightning Publications), The Alphabet of Love (Red Hen Press), The Gentle Man (Red Hen Press), The Last Mojito (Red Hen Press), The Geographer’s Wife (Red Hen Press), Whistling to Trick the Wind (Meadowlark Press), and This Body Is Never at Rest: New and Selected Poems 1993 – 2023 (Meadowlark Press). He has taught at Glendale College, where he edited Eclipse, a literary journal, and, most recently, in the MFA program at Antioch University, Los Angeles. His work has been widely anthologized in textbooks published by City Lights Books, Etruscan Press, Fountainhead Press, Harcourt Brace, Longman, McGraw-Hill, Prentice Hall, Simon & Schuster, Thomson/Heinle, the University of Iowa Press, Wadsworth, and others. He lives in Pasadena, California.